When I Grow Up

I knew I wanted to be an author when I was six years old and my aunt told me that “The White-Pawed Kitten” was one of the best stories she’d ever read. And then my mom, a much less effervescent person, told me that it was pretty good work for a six-year-old. So I knew I must actually have some potential.
When I was little and people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I told them. “I want to be an author!” I remember that they would laugh, but my mom always smiled like she was proud of me. I think she probably was. It made me happy to think that everybody else thought I was ridiculous but my mom knew I could do it.

My mom has always been there to make sure my dream became a reality. When I showed her something I had written, first she would attack it with her trusty red pen. Maybe for a softer hearted kid that would have discouraged them. I don’t know. It always made me feel better that my stories were good enough for my mom to take seriously. She never laughed and said they were dumb. She just told me how they could be better.

notebooks

And then, when I left the story behind because I had moved on to other stories, my mom would say, “When are you going to finish that story I attacked with my red pen? It was good. I want to know what happens.”

As I got older, she kept me surrounded by lots of good books to spark my imagination and give me examples of strong writing. (Okay, that was just because she and my dad love to read.) In high school she bought me a “How to write a novel” workbook to force me to finish my first book. And it worked! That’s how I finished the first book in the Grover Cleveland Academy series (which, much to my mother’s dismay, I will never publish, because it sucks).

If my mom ever doubted me, she never told me. If she ever thought that my becoming a published author was unachievable…nope, she never thought that.

And now here I am, a published author. Not famous or anything, but that was never my goal. I wanted my stories out there for other people to read, and that’s what’s happened. Did my mom one of the biggest reasons for my accomplishments? Yes. Yes she is.

All of this rambling to say, thanks, Mom, for being the best mom an author could ever have. I hope I can be as supportive of my daughter whenever she finds out what she wants to be when she grows up.

 

Posted in Into the Flames, Personal

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